


MOVIN' OUT

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair gets a place of his own.  Jim reacts strangely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MOVIN' OUT

## MOVIN' OUT

by ROXANNE

Author's website:  <http://www.angelfire.com/ga4/garett/senslash.htm>

I wrote this story about a year ago and never posted it here. Don't know why, but now I am. Takes place after TSbyBS.

* * *

Jim Ellison, Sentinel of the city of Cascade, walked into his loft ... his home ... his sanctuary ... and knew immediately that something was drastically wrong. Well, not so much wrong as different. Blair was there ... he could hear that ... the sock-footed Guide was shuffling through his room, riffling papers as he walked. The soft rustling was as familiar to Jim's sensitive ears as his roommate's steady heartbeat. 

Instinct clicked in as Jim began to methodically catalog the search for clues, ticking each off in his detective's mind. There was no smell of blood, no furniture toppled over, no serial killer lurking behind the bathroom door. All good signs ... but there was still something gnawing at his psyche ... something that he knew was about threaten the life he was living. First off, there were millions of dust mites floating in the sunlight streaming through the windows he'd just cleaned that weekend. Hardly earth shattering, but definitely unusual. 

Jim's home was immaculate. Dust mites were just not commonplace at 852 Prospect. Then the smell of damp cardboard was wafting through the apartment and traveling right up his nose. God, he hated that smell! It was sour and musty and ... well, he just hated it. The dank aroma also conjured up terrifying images that his mind could barely suppress fast enough. Jim tossed his keys on the table by the door and scanned the living room for more clues. 

"Hey Jim," Blair called as he carried a wicker basket full of clothes over and set it by the door. 

Jim could see that it was filled with the flannel shirts that Blair used to wear all the time. The young police recruit looked deceptively calm in the face of the danger that Jim still sensed. He was wearing faded gray sweatpants and a Cascade PD t-shirt. His hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail that failed to reign in several wispy curls that sprang tightly at the nape of his neck. 

"Guess what! I finally got my own place. You remember Tim? That guy that I met when I was watching Sam's cousin's dog? Well, I ran into him this morning and he told me that he's moving out and that I should talk to the manager right away, so I did. The place is perfect and I can actually afford the rent. I can't believe that they hadn't rented it out already. Tim was just finishing getting the last of his stuff out, so he said that I could start bringing my things over right away. I should be out by the weekend. Pretty cool, huh?" 

The breeze caused by Blair sailing back into his room was almost enough to blow Jim over. His knees buckled and he had to grab the soft leather edge of the couch to keep from crumbling to the floor. A clammy sweat popped out to chill his body and bile quickly rushed up into his throat. Clinging to the sofa with shaking hands, Jim dropped his head down between his arms and breathed deeply, fighting his body for control. A moment later Blair trotted back out of his room carrying an African drum and a pair of roller blades. 

"Oh my god! What's the matter, Jim? Don't you feel good? Shit man, you look like you're going to faint." 

Blair dropped the stuff he was carrying where he stood, wrapped an arm around Jim's waist and led his friend around to sit on the sofa. The detective fell into the cushions heavily and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Holding his spinning head in his hands, Jim gulped in badly needed air, chancing that this simple act would not lead to dire consequences. 

Blair sat down next to him and began to rub small, comforting circles on his partner's back. 

"How's that, Jim? Any better? Can I get you something?" 

Jim grunted an answer that Blair took for a no, but didn't move from his position. Blair watched him for a moment more, then realized what the problem was. 

"Oh god, Jim. I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have blurted it out like that, I guess. I didn't think it would upset you so much. I guess I just thought you'd be happy to get rid of me. You know ... get your privacy back ... have the place all to yourself again?" 

Jim's back stiffened and he flinched away from Blair's touch with a violent jerk. Emotional armor, as impermeable as steel, locked into place, protecting Jim from anything else that his friend could inflict on him. Jim's eyes were like polar ice as he stared down at his shaking hands ... the only part of his body that he couldn't bring under control. 

"Upset me? You didn't upset me," he snarled at his roommate. "I just got a little lightheaded. I think it's all this fucking dust you're stirring up. Hell, it's everywhere. It's amazing that I can even breathe in here." 

"Oh," Blair mumbled, scooting to the other end of the sofa. "I just thought maybe ... well, never mind. I'll open some windows. That should help with the dust." 

"Yeah, good plan," Jim spat out as he rose from the couch and stormed up to his bedroom. He wouldn't face this now ... he just couldn't. Throwing himself down on his bed, Jim rolled onto his back and stared out through the skylight. All he could see was gray ... another lousy day in Cascade ... a perfect metaphor for his shitty life. There might be brief periods of sunshine, but you just know that nine times out of ten, it's gonna be dreary. 

Depression floated over him and enveloped him like a spirit from the unknown. His head pounded and he rubbed at his temples, trying to relieve the pressure that was building inside his skull. It didn't work. The pain now felt like someone was hitting him between the eyes with a ball peen hammer. Even closing his eyes hurt, but maybe the pain was good. Maybe it was all he deserved. God, he hated self-pity, but sometimes it was all he had. 

Jim couldn't help but wonder what the fuck had made Blair do this to him now though. He'd given the kid a place to live for four years ... put up with his shit for four years. Why did he suddenly have to abandon Jim like this? Things had just seemed to finally get straightened out after the whole dissertation mess and now he pulled a stunt like this! Jim's orderly world was back askew and once again it was Sandburg's fault. Good ole Blair 'it's about friendship' Sandburg was just going to join the long line of people who walked out on Jim Ellison. Well, wasn't that fucking perfect? What if he zoned out? What if he needed Blair to help him with his senses and Blair was nowhere to be found? Then what happened to him? What good did friendship do him then? 

Jim groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. He didn't want to think about it now. He didn't want to think about it at all. He just wanted ... what? Shit, who knew anymore? He hadn't wanted Blair to move in in the first place. Now he didn't want him to leave? So what did that prove? Burrowing under the soft comforter, Jim closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. 

Blair stood at the bottom of the stairs wondering what he could possibly say to his partner that wouldn't be wrong. Here he'd been thinking that Jim would be happy with the news that he was moving. Maybe not jumping up and down happy but pleased anyhow. Blair had thought he'd finally come up with the solution to their problems. They obviously weren't getting along as roommates anymore. Jim was always griping that Blair was in the way ... that he needed privacy. Now Blair was giving him what he wanted and that was wrong too. What was the point in trying anymore? Blair finally just shrugged his aching shoulders and went back to his packing. 

"Oh man! I'm gonna have to buy dishes and pots and pans ... and silverware and dish towels ... shit, this is going to cost me a fortune!" 

Blair was grumbling to himself, as he pulled out the fixings for dinner, unaware that a cranky Sentinel with a splitting headache was hearing every word. Oblivious to his friend's eavesdropping, Blair continued his hushed monologue. 

"I guess I'll be living on bologna sandwiches and government cheese for a few months so I can afford hot pads!" 

Everywhere he looked reminded him of something else he'd need to buy for his new place. He still had some junk in storage ... a computer desk with only three legs, a couple of floor lamps, lots of books and a microwave oven ... but there was still so much more he would need. He hadn't had to worry about all the little things that make a home after the drug lab explosion leveled his last place. He'd just breezed into Jim's apartment as easily as he'd breezed into Jim's life and everything was fine and dandy. But now? Now Blair was thinking that maybe he'd matured since those grad school days because he was no longer willing to live with orange crates for bookcases and a palette on the floor for a bed. 

Well, he'd gotten used to having a pretty good life style these last four years. Jim had the best of everything and while he always reminded Blair that he was living there by his good graces, he was never selfish about sharing his possessions. His stereo was state of the art and when Blair was there alone, he was free to use it as he liked. There was no dividing out of food except by what Jim refused to eat because it was too healthy or too exotic. The TV, the VCR, the washer and dryer ... pretty much anything Jim owned he shared with Blair. 

Maybe this hadn't been the best idea, Blair thought glumly. Yes, he now had a steady paycheck, but a police cadet's salary wasn't exactly conducive to fine living. But the apartment in the building across the street had come open and he felt like he couldn't pass it up. He'd never find a place so close to Jim that he could afford again. Luckily, he'd run into Tim and he'd turned Blair on to the place. Because of its size, it went for half what other places in this now trendy part of town did. 

The damage deposit and first month's rent had taken everything Blair had left in savings. And there'd be no more research grants or teaching stipends to bail his ass out now. Those days were gone for good. So now, he'd just have to make do with what he had. Shit, before he'd come to live with Jim, he'd lived in a damn warehouse. He could certainly get used to a bare apartment in an upscale neighborhood again. And don't forget, he reminded himself, you can finally give Jim some privacy while still being close enough to help out if there's trouble. 

It was the right thing to do. Blair knew it and Jim would soon realize it, even if he had apparently passed from shock straight into denial since he'd come home that evening. Soon it would be like Blair had never been there. The place would always be neat, there'd always be plenty of hot water and Jim wouldn't have to put up with Naomi when she came to visit. 

Maybe ... just maybe ... things would get better between Jim and Blair too. Their lives had just never returned to what passed for normal after the whole dissertation fiasco and this was Blair's chance to put things right. The hurt that Jim had felt by his betrayal was still a palpable thing between them. Nothing the younger man did could fully redeem him. He'd risked Jim's life simply by his own carelessness and it would take moving heaven and earth to regain the Sentinel's trust. 

Blair had hoped that Jim would see this move as a step in the right direction. Jim was the best friend he'd ever had and he'd given Blair so much. The young police cadet had finally found stability in his life ... a condition totally foreign to Naomi's little boy ... and it had felt so good. Now he could finally give Jim back the one thing that he seemed to require more than air to breathe ... privacy. 

It's not like Blair wanted to move. He loved living with Jim ... having someone to talk to ... to hang out with ... to be best friends with. Even with all the gun battles, blows to the head, kidnappings and even drowning, these past four years had been the happiest of his life. Jim was the big brother he'd never had. And the great thing about him was that while sometimes Jim was like this huge monolith ... always towering over him ... protecting him ... watching over him ... Blair had seen a soft side of Jim that few were privy to. He knew the caring, gentle man that Jim could be and he loved that man fiercely. 

But now there was a tension between them that had not existed before. The two men who had once worked as a cohesive unit could barely carry on a civil conversation. Blair had started his training at the academy just like Jim had wanted, but when Blair would try to tell his friend about what he was learning or how he felt about it, Jim would just cut him off. They still did stuff together ... well, they sat around and watched TV ... but there was always an underlying tension there. The man who had ruffled his hair and bopped him on the head at every opportunity never touched him now ... never joked with him ... never really talked to him. 

And what made a bad situation even worse was that Jim wasn't only his best friend, he was the only friend Blair had left now. The former social butterfly of Rainier University was spending every night at home in an eerily silent apartment. Every friend he'd had at Rainier avoided him like the plague, disgusted or embarrassed by his admission of fraud, and he certainly wasn't the most popular cadet at the academy. The other recruits stayed in their own little cliques, not particularly interested in spending time with the longhaired interloper with the special connections to get him into Major Crimes straight out of the academy. 

Then the one person that Blair had come to depend upon most ... the center of Blair's universe for the past four years ... was ignoring him too. There was no doubt about it. Jim had become really distant ... well, more distant than usual ... and Blair felt more than ever like a guest who'd overstayed his welcome. Four years was obviously long enough to be roomies. 

What the hell were they doing living together at that age anyhow? They weren't college kids ... they were grown men, for god's sake! They needed their own places. Men needed personal space where they could belch and fart and jerk off whenever they felt like it. Neither could ever bring a woman back to the loft anymore because the other was always there. Okay ... that hadn't been a problem since neither had been on a date in months, but it could be. 

Shit, that was probably Blair's fault too. Anymore, it seemed like every little thing he did got on Jim's nerves. They had actually gotten into a screaming argument the week before about the way Blair had put the toilet paper on the holder. It would have been comical if they hadn't nearly come to blows over it. It was such a stupid thing, but both men's anger had escalated quickly and before either had known it, things had gone too far. Actually, if Blair had to point to one particular moment when he knew that it was time to move on, that had to be it. 

He could still see Jim standing in the bathroom with the toilet paper in one hand and the little roller in the other. His patronizing tone as he lectured Blair on the finer points of paper hanging had gone right through the younger man. Every bit of cool that he had vanished as Jim demonstrated the process for about the fifth time. In a flash, Blair had grabbed the toilet paper from Jim's hand, opened the bathroom window and thrown it out onto the street before he turned and stomped back to his room. The whoosh of the wooden roller flying past his ear made him twirl around and scream "fuck you" at Jim before he slammed the french doors shut. 

Yes, it would be nice to have his own place, Blair assured himself. He could leave junk anywhere he wanted, listen to music without headphones, flush the toilet whenever he felt like it. He could even leave the toilet paper on the floor and never hang it on the roller ... the right way or the wrong way. Yeah, this was definitely a smart move. 

Maybe he'd even meet some new people ... make some new friends. He was a friendly guy. He could put himself out there and find somebody else that needed a friend. There were surely some other lonely 30-somethings living in that apartment building that wouldn't hold his admission of academic fraud against him. Sure there were! 

Blair continued to stare blankly into the cabinet as Jim came down the stairs, tucking his shirttails into his jeans. He brushed past Blair without acknowledging his partner's presence and went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. 

"Feeling better?" Blair asked carefully. He'd finally settled on what he was fixing for dinner and was searching for the soy sauce when Jim knocked him against the stove. The detective was obviously in another one of his darker moods. He hadn't even muttered a stiff apology, let alone put his hand on Blair to steady him. The blackest moods came on pretty quickly these days and Blair was never quite sure what precipitated them anymore. All he knew was that it was related to him ... it was always related to him. 

"Sure. Just wonderful!" Jim sneered as he leaned back against the refrigerator. "What's for dinner?" 

"I thought I'd make a stir fry. We've still got a couple of chicken breasts and I wanna use up some of these vegetables before they go bad. That okay with you?" 

Blair began to chop some celery. Head down, he watched Jim's reaction through a veil of hair. He could see the steely blue eyes focus on something on the counter. He could see the tiny flick of Jim's jaw as he clenched his teeth even harder. He could see one large hand tighten into a fist. There was no emotion ... no warmth coming off the rigid body. 

"Fine. I'm going for a walk. I'll be back in a half hour." 

Jim slammed the bottle down, sloshing water out onto the clean counter and turned and walked out. His fury at Blair had escalated exponentially as he had lain upstairs and listened to Blair blithely plan out his future alone. His Guide's soft words had hammered into his head, beating out a staccato rhythm in counterpoint to the throbs of his migraine. By the time he got downstairs, he was afraid that he could actually physically harm Blair just to stop the noise. 

Jim stalked through the misty night in a haze of anger and pain. For some reason, all he could think about was the day his mother left ... the screaming fight ... the flying dinnerware ... his father crying. He'd never understood what the last straw had been ... if it had been something he or Stephen had done ... if his father had been unfaithful ... if there'd been another man. All he knew was that she had packed her bags, kissed each of her sons on their cheeks and driven away. 

A mother wasn't supposed to do that. He may have only been a kid, but he knew that much. A mother was supposed to stay with her children ... fight for them ... die for them. She wasn't supposed to just move away and start her life over again. 

His mother had found a house a few blocks from theirs, gotten a job selling real estate, built a new life without her children. Her sons were allowed to come to visit once a month and spent Christmas with her the first year. The trips were always strained, his mother making sure that Jim knew that he didn't really belong there. When Jim heard his father begging her to keep the boys while he went on a business trip, Jim refused to go to her house again. His father didn't make him and he'd spent the two weeks with his Aunt Jean. He never saw his mother again. He'd heard that she'd moved to Boston, but he'd never cared enough to find out for sure. 

So now another person he loved was leaving Jim. Another person that he'd thought would always be there for him was going and for the life of him, he didn't know why ... what he'd done wrong this time. What was it about Jim Ellison that made him so damned unlovable? He tried. God knows, he tried to be what they all wanted, but it never worked. They always left. His mother, Bud, Carolyn ... now Blair. 

He'd cry if he could, but the tears wouldn't come. So tonight he walked. He got clear to the marina before he realized how far he'd come. He started to look for a pay phone to call and let Blair know he'd be late, then decided against it. If the little shit was so anxious to be on his own, he could start getting used to it tonight. 

It was nearly 11:00 by the time Jim got back to the loft. He'd walked for hours, trying desperately to organize his thoughts ... to make sense of what he was feeling and why Blair's moving felt so much like another betrayal. He hadn't come to any other conclusion than that it hurt like hell. He opened the door and scanned the dark room. Blair was apparently in bed. He couldn't hear anything except the even breathing of his roommate. Roommate ... friend ... partner. Jim stood in the doorway and stared at the piles of boxes until a sudden wave of nausea flowed over him. He barely made it to the toilet before he was on his knees, retching. The sight of those boxes ... those same damn boxes for god's sake ... were just too much. 

Memories of that nightmare experience with Alex came pushing back up to the forefront of his mind. He'd tried so hard to bury all those thoughts in the furthest recesses of his memory ... wanting to never relive that terror again. It had been a gut wrenching experience to pack up his best friend's belongings and shove him out of his life. He'd known that it would break the young man's heart, but it was the only way he could think of to keep Blair safe. Jim had been so sure then that getting Blair away from him ... out of harm's way ... was the best thing he could do for his friend. That's all he'd wanted to do ... keep Blair safe. 

Those dreams that had haunted him night after night had caused a horrible sense of foreboding. He didn't need Freud to tell him that shooting the wolf and the wolf morphing into Blair was significant. Jim believed with absolute assuredness that he would be responsible for Blair's death if the young anthropologist stayed close to him. It had only made sense to push Blair away. 

Jim knew that wouldn't be easy. Hell, Blair followed him everywhere. He took his job as Guide as a sacred trust ... always at Jim's side, ready to plunge headfirst into the most horrible situation ... doing anything it took to help his Sentinel. Blair had followed him parachuting into Peru and over a cliff into an icy river. Jim knew that there was nothing the young man wouldn't do for him. And it was because of that devotion that Jim had to protect him. Blair meant everything to him, but the only way to get him to leave was to pack his stuff up and order him out of the loft. 

The hurt in his Guide's eyes as Jim pushed him away was almost more than he could bear. He had so wanted to just gather the younger man in his arms and beg his forgiveness, but that wouldn't have solved the problem. And ... oh my ... how wrong could a guy be? By pushing Blair away, he shoved him right into Alex's path. While Jim was obsessed with protecting his territory, Alex was busy trying to kill Blair ... his Blair. God, she'd come so close. If Jim had been seconds later ... if he'd run to Blair's office first before noticing the fountain ... well, he couldn't even imagine what would have happened. As it was, Blair's heart had stopped beating ... he was crossing into the next world ... before Incacha had come to their rescue. He'd never felt so much relief as the moment he heard the faint heartbeat of his Guide. 

When Blair had tried to get Jim to explore the significance of their shared vision ... the joining of their animal spirits ... the Sentinel had backed away, making stupid jokes, afraid of admitting what the vision had really meant. Blair just dropped the subject ... an uncharacteristic move for the always loquacious Guide ... but he'd seemed to sense Jim's apprehension at delving into such an intensely personal experience ... even if it was one he'd shared. Jim hadn't questioned it further. He was just relieved that Blair wasn't hounding him about his feelings. 

Then in the isolation pool in Sierra Verde, Incacha had returned again. This time, he simply asked Jim what he saw. Through Incacha's words, Jim knew that he had to look inside himself to see what the most important thing in his life was. With startling clarity, all he saw was a picture of Blair ... his beautiful, smiling Blair. And then when Incacha asked what he feared most, Jim saw more pictures of Blair. But these pictures showed all the ways the young man had been hurt since he'd partnered up with the Sentinel. Jim didn't know which images terrified him more. He'd never wanted to become that dependent on another person ever again. It hurt too much when they left ... and they always left. 

When he and Blair had returned from Sierra Verde, everything was different. Jim knew that Blair felt betrayed by Jim's attraction to Alex and he had every right to. They'd explained it away as some kind of biological imperative, but the fact was that Jim had not only protected the woman who'd tried to kill his Guide, but would have fucked her ... mated with her ... if Blair hadn't stopped them. Yes, he'd pulled the gun away from Alex when she'd wanted to shoot Blair, but when she'd turned and run from him, he'd let her go, wishing he was following her. 

But he didn't ... something held him back. Blair had held him back. Without so much as a hand on his shoulder, Blair had been the force that kept Jim from following his destiny. Then Alex fried her brain and Jim and Blair went back to their old lives ... Sentinel and Guide ... back to protecting the great city of Cascade. Only it was all so strange after Sierra Verde. Their easy camaraderie was gone and just cold silence remained. Jim told himself it was for the best. Their relationship should never have developed into what it had in the first place. Sure, they could be friends, but to think there was more was just setting himself up for heartbreak. 

Okay, somewhere along the line he realized that he had wanted his old Blair back. He wanted to be able to tease his buddy and have his buddy tease him back. He wanted to hear about Blair's dates and offer advice and just hang out watching the game on TV. But the old Blair was gone. This Blair ... this Blair that had just told Jim that he was moving out ... was more serious. He didn't tease ... he didn't really joke around much at all. He seemed almost afraid of Jim. 

Then when he thought things couldn't get any worse, the whole dissertation mess happened. Jim knew that he had overreacted almost immediately. Blair would never have intentionally exposed the Sentinel to the world at large. Jim knew that. Blair withstood his rage stoically, trying to explain what had really happened, but Jim didn't want to hear it then. He knew it wasn't really Blair's fault, but someone had to pay for making Jim the media freak that he'd become and his partner was an easy target. 

Blair had always been up front about what his plans were. Jim had just been stupid to think that the paper wouldn't get published and even stupider to think that no one would pay attention to it. It was an easy jump to think that Blair would be tempted by all the money that publisher was throwing at him.   
Watching the press conference where Blair announced that his dissertation was a fraud tore through Jim's heart. No one had ever done anything like that for him ... ever. Blair was the best friend he'd ever had and had proven his friendship time and time again. Jim felt like an even bigger piece of shit watching the young man struggle to contain his tears as he gave up everything he'd worked for so that Jim could have a normal life. 

He'd finally broken down and told Blair how important he was ... what a great cop he was ... like that was the biggest honor someone like Blair could receive. Then he'd cracked another stupid joke and life went on. Maybe it wasn't quite as much fun as it had been before, but hey, didn't they all have to grow up someday? 

Jim had thought that it had all worked out so well in the end. Blair seemed thrilled about the prospect of becoming a real detective and his permanent partner. Even though the guys in Major Crimes knew that Blair had not falsified his dissertation, they quit treating Jim like a freak and things pretty much went back to normal. Maybe they were a little more careful about their conversations when Jim was in the squad room, but since he'd never made a point of eavesdropping, it hadn't been a problem. 

Jim spent most of his time while Blair was at the academy partnered with Megan since Simon didn't think he should risk working alone. She was still a loose cannon, but at least she knew what was up with his senses and wouldn't freak out if he zoned a little. Together, they had a pretty good arrest rate ... nothing as good as his and Sandburg's ...and she was almost as talkative as Blair when they were stuck on stakeouts. At least that helped pass the time until his real partner was back at his side. 

Blair didn't talk much about the academy. Jim figured the guy was acing his classes as usual and probably had all the women in the class eating out of the palm of his hand. He spent a lot of time in his room studying and seemed pretty wiped out at night, so they just watched TV in silence and life went on. 

So why this now? Why was Blair running out on him when things were finally going right for a change? And why did it make him so goddamn mad? 

Jim pushed himself up from the cold tile floor, flushed the toilet one last time and washed his mouth out in the sink. He could deal with this. Hell, he'd dealt with it before ... he could surely do it again. He'd be gracious, helpful, supportive. He'd kill the little bastard with kindness. 

The move went smoothly. Since Blair didn't own any furniture, it was mostly a matter of carrying boxes ... one or two at a time ... across the street and up to his 10th floor apartment. Jim even helped him out on Saturday, using his 2-wheel dolly to haul all the boxes of books at once. 

In the afternoon, he drove Blair to the storage place and they loaded up the good stuff and junk, then stopped at a landfill to pitch everything but the books that hadn't been ruined by a leak in the ceiling and the microwave. Blair spent one last night on Jim's spare bed, then stripped off the sheets on Sunday morning and stuck them in a paper bag. He'd wash them at the new place later. They had a laundry room in the basement, so it would still be pretty convenient. Jim had brought bagels back with him from his run and they'd sat in silence and ate one last breakfast together. By noon, there was no sign of Blair Sandburg left in apartment 307 of 852 Prospect. 

His new place had been listed as a studio apartment, which meant one room. There was a partial wall divider about halfway back the narrow rectangle and windows across the far end of the room. The kitchen area was just a stove, refrigerator, sink, a little counter and some overhead cabinets. For some reason, the bathroom was right next to the front door and the closets were next to that. 

Why anyone would want the bedroom to be the first space you walked into, Blair didn't know, but it didn't really matter. He couldn't see himself doing a lot of entertaining in the place. 

He had made it a point to get to one of those rent to own places the previous week and had picked out a couch and two chairs, a futon and a kitchen table. Blair had chosen the place especially because they delivered on Sundays. 

True to their advertisement, two brawny teenagers showed up at five minutes to 5:00, dumping everything Blair had ordered as close to the front door as possible. Jim must have been watching for them, because as soon as the furniture guys left, he came back over and helped Blair move the bigger stuff around. 

Things finally started to take shape once the furniture was in place. Naomi had given Blair an early graduation present of a TV/VCR combination and he already had his own boombox, so he was pretty much set for entertainment. After a trip to the Salvation Army thrift store, he even had enough dishes, glasses and cutlery to keep him from having to do dishes more than once a week. 

Jim offered to run out for Chinese for supper since Blair still hadn't made it to the grocery store. The two men sat at the small Formica table talking about the Jags and pushing food around their plates until Jim finally announced that it was time to go. The big farewell wasn't as traumatic as Blair had thought it would be. Jim made a few jokes about not running out of hot water and not finding hair everywhere, then shook Blair's hand before he headed back across the street. 

Why he felt like crying like a little girl, Blair didn't know. He kept telling himself that it wasn't like he was never going to see Jim again. He only had two more months of training and then he'd be permanently partnered with his Sentinel. They'd be back to spending every day together ... probably more time than they'd ever spent before. 

But in his heart, Blair knew there was way more to it. This move signaled the end of he and Jim's special friendship. They'd been moving in this direction for the past year and now that the time had come, it was worse than he'd ever imagined. Giving in to his tears, Blair spent his first night alone in his new place crying for a friendship that should never have died. 

Jim had Monday off, so he volunteered to sit and wait for the phone and cable installers. Blair had given him a key ... said he should have it in case of an emergency ... so he let himself in and wove through the stacks of boxes to get to the cheap sofa. It was a tan and olive-green tweed made from some rough, synthetic material that scratched his body through his clothing. 

After trying every position he could think of, both chairs and even the futon, Jim decided that he just couldn't get comfortable. He glanced as his watch, decided he had enough time for a quick trip home and returned minutes later with the throw from his own sofa. He laid it carefully over the back and seat of the couch, then tried again to get comfortable. 

It felt really odd sitting in Blair's new apartment. It was so cold and empty ... nothing at all like Blair's old room or even that horrible warehouse the younger man had lived in when they'd first met. 

Jim hopped up and prowled around the living area touching each of the few pieces of furniture. They were cheap and poorly constructed, but he guessed that they were the best that Blair could afford. Each piece had been designed to go with any mix of furniture the renter chose, but together they just looked like an ugly sea of beige. 

This place just wasn't right. It was more like the loft was before Blair had moved in ... cold and uninviting. There were no plants, nothing hanging on the walls, nothing that made it look like a home. Okay, so the kid had only just moved in, but there was a sterility about the place that made Jim cringe. 

He returned to the couch, sank down in the corner and picked up his book. Jim had brought the new Ken Follett novel to fill his time, but he just couldn't concentrate on the words. Those damn boxes were still sitting exactly where he'd left them the day before and his eyes kept straying from the page to stare at them. For a second, he wondered if Blair had left them there to taunt him. Then sense returned and he knew that his Guide didn't even know the significance of them, let alone the pain that seeing the boxes again would cause Jim. 

Of course Blair had just not had time to put things away. That's all it was. The kid had just moved. He'd had a lot to do. That's what the problem was. Finally tossing the book aside, Jim decided that he might as well make himself useful. By the time Blair got home, Jim had all the boxes cleared away, a supply of groceries laid in and spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. 

"Hey Jim," Blair felt himself say as he walked through the door. It wasn't exactly dja vous. Blair knew exactly where he was and what he was experiencing. It was just so ... strange. He was in his own apartment, with his own furniture, his own artwork hanging on the walls ... even the dieffenbachia Rhonda had given him for his birthday by the door. How the hell had Jim done it? The tiny apartment looked almost exactly like his room at the loft. He could swear that the books were even arranged on the bookshelf in the same order as they were at Jim's. 

"Hey Sandburg," Jim replied. "Hope you don't mind. I got kind of bored just sitting here waiting all day. If you don't like it, I can take the stuff down off the walls..." 

His voice had a strangely uncertain quality to it and the detective never glanced up from the sauce that he was stirring with such concentration. 

"No ... no, I don't mind at all. This is really nice Jim. Thanks a lot." 

Jim set the spoon down and wiped his hands on his apron ... his apron ... and handed Blair a glass of wine ... in a brand new wineglass. 

"Consider it a housewarming present," Jim said as he clinked his glass against his Guide's. 

"Why don't you go get cleaned up and I'll get dinner on?" 

Jim had often joked about entering the Sandburg zone when things got weird. Well, this was way beyond the Sandburg zone. This was way out there in the stratosphere, for god's sake. Jim just seemed so relaxed ... so comfortable here in Blair's tiny little apartment. But then he should ... he'd brought enough of his own place over. Blair noticed the throw on the couch, the wooden salad bowl, the blender and the colander to strain the spaghetti. 

Blair set his glass down and turned towards his bathroom, wondering what he'd find next. He gasped softly as he noticed all his hair care products neatly lined up on the tub ledge and brand new towels hanging on bars that had just been installed. The medicine cabinet held a veritable drug store full of first aid and shaving supplies. There was even a brand new box of condoms tucked discretely behind the extra large box of Band-Aids. 

Turning back to study the sleeping area, he noticed the picture of he and Jim on one of the bookcases. It had been taken at the Policeman of the Year Awards banquet. They'd both been pleasantly tipsy and their faces glowed with friendship. Jim had his arm around Blair's shoulder and was looking down at his partner with a silly smile on his face. Looking at that picture made Blair smile now and he knew that he wanted to reclaim that time when he and Jim's friendship had been so strong. If letting Jim imprint himself on Blair's apartment was what it took to make the Sentinel happy, then Blair was glad to do it. 

When he came out of the bathroom wearing baggy shorts and a sleeveless tshirt and towel drying his hair, dinner was all ready. Jim was just pouring more wine in their glasses and he had the lights dimmed. The view from Blair's windows wasn't as picturesque as from Jim's, but the sparkling lights of the city danced in the indigo sky, creating a beautiful backdrop. 

Dinner was an easy, comfortable affair. The two men talked ... really talked ... for the first time in ages. Blair told Jim all about the academy, his scores on the written tests and his miserable attempts at the shooting range. Jim filled his Guide in on the cases he'd been working on and seemed really anxious for his partner to rejoin him. When they finished eating, Blair put the leftovers in Tupperware while Jim stretched out on the couch. He was watching a Jags game when Blair came in carrying his laptop. 

"What's that for?" Jim spoke softly. "I thought you were all through with recording your observations about me." 

Blair ignored the veiled insult and sat down on one of the armchairs. 

"My dissertation may be kaput, but I still like writing. I've been keeping a journal since I was 12 and I don't intend to stop now just because it makes you uncomfortable." 

Why his response had been so sharp, Blair didn't know, but he wished he could have sucked it right back in as soon as the words left his mouth. They'd been having such a nice evening. He didn't want to ruin it with some smartass comment. 

"I'm sorry man. I didn't mean that like it came out." 

Too little, too late. Jim was up and heading towards the door before Blair's apology had left his lips. 

"No problem," Jim sneered. "I'll just leave you to it." 

Blair bounded out of the chair, sliding the computer to the floor with a thump and was across the room in an instant. 

"Please don't go, Jim." 

His hand was clutching Jim's upper arm and he could feel the biceps flex beneath his fingers. Everything about the Sentinel screamed tension, then relaxed suddenly. 

His voice was just above a whisper, but Blair heard the words clearly. 

"You really want me to stay?" 

"Yes, Jim. I do. It's been a great evening. Please just forget what I said and let's just enjoy what's left, okay?" 

The detective turned and nodded at his partner then glanced down at the hand that was still clinging to his arm. Blair released his grip and started to blush, but Jim just cuffed him on the head and said, "Come on then. Let's finish watching the game." 

Blair could have screamed with joy at that innocent little gesture. His Jim was back. Why it took this move and how long it would last, he didn't know, but he planned on savoring every minute. He followed Jim back into the living area and plopped back down onto his chair. He pushed the laptop to the side with his foot and gave his full concentration to the game. 

What started out as a housewarming dinner quickly turned into a habit. If Jim got off work before Blair, he'd let himself into the studio apartment and begin cooking supper. If Jim was working late, Blair fixed something for himself, then waited up until Jim stopped by to tell him about his day. They never discussed Alex, the dissertation, or even the fact that Blair was now living in his own place. Jim came and went as easily as if it were the loft. When he would leave at night, he'd simply say that it was time for bed and he'd be gone. 

They went out for Chinese the first Saturday night after the move and came back and watched Austin Powers on video. Jim laughed himself silly and Blair fell asleep on the couch. When he woke up, he was covered with the afghan and Jim was gone. They spent the following Sunday fishing with Simon. 

Jim never acted like there was anything unusual about his behavior, so Blair just let it slide, enjoying the camaraderie that their friendship had always afforded. 

About two weeks after his move, Blair met a pretty little temp at the academy. Tracy was all of 21 years old, with hazel eyes, light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and a plump, round figure. She wore tight jeans and sweaters that showed her voluptuous figure to its best advantage and pink lipstick that made her lips perfect for kissing. 

Tracy had just moved to the area from New Hampshire and had never heard of a Sentinel, but was immediately captivated by Blair. She was working as a file clerk in the testing center, but managed to bump into Blair every time he left the classroom her first day there. She giggled when he introduced himself and gave him a huge smile when she spotted him as he was leaving for the day. Blair was astonished at how boldly she flirted, but it felt good to have somebody to talk to ... to make him feel wanted. 

They ate lunch together in the cafeteria the next day then made plans for a movie and dinner that Friday night. When Jim got to the apartment after his late shift, Blair was bouncing from foot to foot as he told his friend about Tracy. As soon as he had, he wished he'd never mentioned the girl. Jim had given him a really odd look when he came through the door ... eyes wary and body in battle stance ... but Blair had ignored it and immediately started chattering on about his new girlfriend. 

Jim never made it to the couch. He suddenly remembered an errand he had to run and turned and left Blair standing at the door with his mouth hanging open. 

The date went fairly well. Blair had made reservations at an Indian restaurant, then took Tracy to Club Doom. They danced and drank and made out in the parking lot before Blair dropped Tracy off at her parent's house. He'd tried to talk to her about this Fijian water dance he'd seen when he was 14 and she'd changed the subject to the newest 'N Sync video. He brought up body piercing in other cultures after Tracy made fun of the bouncer's pierced tongue, but she hadn't been interested in that either. She just thought it was "icky" and changed the subject to her best friend Jennifer's breast implants. When Blair kissed her goodnight, she pulled his hand up under her sweater and whispered, "Next time." 

Tracy wanted to go out again the following night, but Blair wasn't up for it. He told her that he had a sore throat, then phoned Jim and asked if he wanted to come by for tacos. The detective agreed to dinner and even rented a movie for the evening. On the following Monday, Blair told Tracy that he couldn't see her anymore. She didn't act too broken up and he told himself that it was for the best. She was just too young for him anyhow. 

Blair met Kirby a few weeks later. She was a willowy brunette with long straight hair and breasts that swayed freely under her tie-dyed t-shirt. Kirby was a sculptor who worked at the new health food store down the street from his apartment and kind of reminded Blair of his mom. She had enormous brown eyes and legs that went all the way up. 

Kirby cooked Blair supper for their first date. The meal was a feast of tofu mince pie, brown rice, wasabi chips and a sprout crumble that Blair didn't even want to think about. But Kirby had cooked the meal especially for him and they ate by candlelight, listening to the newest CD by John Cage. After she'd cleared the dishes from the mat on the floor, Kirby pulled her gauze dress off over her head and dropped it in Blair's lap. The Guide watched her turn and stroll through a curtain of silvery beads, then hopped up and followed. 

Sex with Kirby was about as tasty as the tofu she'd served for dinner. For being such a little neo-hippie, she had some pretty middle-class ideas about fucking. Blair gave up on trying any position beside missionary after an aborted attempt at the third posture of the perfumed garden got him kicked in the balls. Kirby had just giggled when he'd tried a little cunnilingus, so he knew a blowjob was completely out of the question. 

Surprisingly, Kirby had been the first to fall asleep after a rather lackluster orgasm and Blair was able to slip out without waking her. He'd finished dressing in the hall and practically ran to his car when he hit the street. Once inside the Volvo, he'd slumped over the steering wheel and fought back tears of frustration. 

Nothing was right anymore. Both Tracy and Kirby had been warm and willing and both dates had been disastrous. Now he couldn't even manage an honest to god date anymore. What had happened to him? He'd rather spend the evening with Jim than a night in the sack with Moonbeam back there. 

A horrified little laugh escaped his lips as Blair realized that he was even starting to think like Jim. Well, hell ... why not? The man had turned into his entire fucking universe. Shit, he'd planned the date on this night in particular because he knew that Jim was on a stakeout. Otherwise, they'd be back at Blair's place eating dinner and watching TV together. This certainly wasn't the life that Blair had planned for himself. 

How had things turned into this bizarro version of the "Odd Couple" Jim wondered for about the thousandth time that night? Sitting in his truck, eyes trained on small-time gangster turned major league drug smuggler Leo LaMorte's house, Jim's mind kept wandering back to Blair. He knew it was weird, but he couldn't keep himself from spending every spare minute in the Guide's tiny little apartment. He needed that closeness ... that charade of the way it used to be ... to keep it together ... to not let himself fall into the abyss of despair that another desertion would trigger. 

At times Jim felt like he and Blair were some old, married couple ... set in a routine that was more comfortable than anything else. People treated them that way too. Jimmy at the Golden Palace always asked about Blair when Jim ate there alone. Simon inquired about Blair's progress at the academy at least once a week and Megan kept pressing recipes on him to take home to the Guide. 

Shit, he'd even kissed Blair goodnight one time. He hadn't really even realized what he was doing until he felt Blair tense up from the lips down. Neither man said anything, of course, and Jim made sure it never happened again, but it had just felt like such a natural thing to do. That's how he and Carolyn had ended every night while they were married ... well until he moved to the downstairs bedroom anyhow. He'd give her a quick kiss, then they'd roll to their own sides of the bed. 

If he concentrated though, he could still feel it ... the shiver of excitement, the softness of Blair's lips, the incredible desire to bury his hands in that mass of hair. And then Jim would smell some sickeningly sweet perfume and know that Blair had been with a woman ... that he was trying to get on with his life ... have some sense of normalcy ... and Jim would crumble inside. 

Oh, Blair would try to spare Jim's feelings ... scheduling his dates for nights when Jim was working ... nights like tonight ... but it still felt like betrayal and it still hurt like hell. 

"I'll bet the little fucker's got a date again tonight," he grumbled without thinking. 

"What was that?" 

Rafe had dozed off in the passenger seat of the pick-up. Jim's voice woke him up from a dream about rescuing a busload of circus clowns from driving off a cliff with a snort. The words may have sounded strange but there was no mistaking Jim's tone of voice. Rafe was immediately cautious. 

"Nothing," Jim snarled. "None of your business." 

The other detective nodded and turned to stare out the side window, surreptitiously wiping a stream of drool from the corner of his mouth. Better to feign disinterest altogether than be on the receiving end of one of Jim Ellison's famous diatribes on privacy. 

Blair's final month at the police academy flew by in a whirlwind of activity that culminated with a whole range of final exams ... both physical and academic. Jim was so damned proud of him. Blair was first in his class of 45 recruits, exceeding at everything except shooting at the firing range. 

He bought Blair a gun for his birthday ... a really nice 9mm Browning Belgium that he just knew would fit in Blair's hand perfectly ... and had taken him to a private range to practice the weekend before the last test. 

Standing behind his Guide in the deserted booth, Jim brought a hand up and held Blair's arm straight, pointing at the body-shaped target. Blair squeezed the trigger on the powerful little revolver just like he'd been taught and still recoiled back into Jim's arms from the force of the blast. Jim steadied the smaller man, wrapping his other arm around Blair's waist. He nearly zoned on the feel of that body against his and Blair's hair against his face. Then Blair stiffened and pulled away. Jim stepped back and let his Guide practice on his own for the rest of the afternoon. 

Graduation from the academy was held on the first Saturday in June so that family members could attend. Blair had no great interest in going through the ceremony, but Naomi was coming up from a reservation she was staying at outside of Albuquerque and Simon was practically handing out cigars over the affair, so Blair knew he'd have to suffer through it. Couldn't let them down, could he? 

Jim had offered to put Naomi up in Blair's old room since Blair didn't have a spare bed and then had made reservations at Lombardi's for dinner after the ceremony. 

Blair had his dress uniform pressed and ready for the big day and even managed to get the hat to sit straight, perched on top of his ponytail. Naomi and Megan oohed and aahed over how handsome he looked in uniform, but he couldn't really get in the spirit of things. 

Blair couldn't help but wonder what their reactions would have been if he was receiving his doctorate and not a badge. The irony of the situation wheedled at his brain and he'd walked through the ceremony like an automaton, barely conscious of the speeches, cheers and traditional throwing of the hats in the air. In the end, all he could think was 'Thank god, it's over.' 

The whole gang all ended up at the loft after dinner. Rafe, Brown and Megan had come back with Naomi and Simon and they had all spread out through the living room, alternately moaning over their full stomachs and exhaling satisfied little sighs. 

For the first time all day, Blair finally relaxed. It really did seem a little bit like old times. Everybody was happy and Blair couldn't remember feeling so good in such a long time. His evenings with Jim had been really enjoyable, but he'd never been able to fully extinguish the spark of anticipation that Jim would suddenly revert to his dark and sullen self. 

There was no sign of the other Jim that night though. The detective looked so proud of his new partner that you'd think he'd just found out he was going to be a new dad. He broke out some champagne and even joined Simon in a cigar. 

Maybe it was all that smoke and alcohol haze that gave the evening its surreal quality. Maybe it was just the letdown after several tumultuous months. Blair wasn't sure what brought about the next few events, but they were nothing like what he would have predicted. 

It started off with Megan and Rafe sneaking out to the balcony to make out. Apparently the rumors about those two were true, Blair thought to himself. But there really wasn't much point in subtlety. Everyone was quietly plastered and giggling at the two detectives as they kissed and groped each other. 

Eventually, H got sleepy and wandered into Blair's old room to take a short nap. Then Simon and Naomi stood up and announced to Jim and Blair that they were a couple and were thinking about marriage. Blair stood up to protest ... what he wasn't sure ... then fell back onto the couch next to Jim. Naomi grinned at her son leaning against his partner for support, then calmly asked for the key to his apartment. She didn't think either she or Simon was sober enough to drive to his place, so they'd just make use of his futon, if he didn't mind. 

Blair blinked up at his mother. She looked so happy. How could he refuse? 

It was several moments later that he realized that he'd just given both his new bed and his old bed away. 

"Come on, little buddy," Jim hugged him close. "You can bunk with me tonight." 

The two men left Megan and Rafe to their own devices and headed up the stairs to Jim's bedroom. It had been a long day with some pretty weird twists and all Blair wanted to do crash for the night. He didn't have to report to Major Crimes until Tuesday, so he could sleep late in the morning if Jim would let him. Sharing a bed was not what he'd planned on, but a bed was a bed and that's all he cared about for the moment. 

Both men stripped down to boxers, then climbed under the comforter. The apartment was cool and the bed was so much warmer and more comfortable than his futon that Blair burrowed down under the covers and got settled for the night. Jim mumbled a good night, then reached out to switch off the light. Blair was asleep before the room was enveloped in darkness. 

Neither man heard Rafe, Megan and Brown steal out the front door a few minutes later. 

"Oh my god! Don't you go!" 

Blair sat straight up in bed, struggling to remember where he was and why he was there. The burning pain of a hangover hit him right between the eyes and he flopped back down only to be startled again by Jim's screams. 

"Oh, Blair! I'm so sorry! Blair, please don't go!" 

The large man was repeating the same words over and over as arms flailed about, grasping at the air, trying to catch something only he could see. Blair laid a hand on one arm and was stunned at the strength that tossed it aside. 

"Jim, wake up. Come on now. Everything's okay. Come on Jim." 

Blair tried the soothing words, then combined them with a renewed attempt to ground his partner with touch. Rubbing an open palm against Jim's chest, Blair continued to offer consolation in singsong tones. Suddenly, Jim came awake shaking violently and shoving Blair's hands off his body again. 

"What the...? Sandburg? What's going on? What are you doing here? What's happened?" 

Holding his hands up to ward off the barrage of questions that felt like little ice pick jabs to his bloodshot eyes, Blair sat up and willed his head to stop pounding so that he could form a coherent sentence. 

"You were having a nightmare, man. Just settle down, take some deep breaths and for god's sake dial down your senses." 

Jim lay back on his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. A large hand came up to rub at his brow and wipe away the remains of tears that had spilled out during his dream. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Blair asked softly. 

He was shocked into silence when Jim replied, "Yeah, I think maybe I do." 

Jim switched the bedside lamp on and then rolled onto his side. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked over at his Guide. Blair's hair was fanned out across the pillow, laying in milky brown waves and providing a perfect frame for his beautiful face. Sleepy blue eyes peered up at Jim ... so full of questions and compassion that it made the Sentinel want to weep. 

Bringing a hand up, Jim cupped his Guide's face as he stroked his thumb over that gorgeous mouth. He was so focused on the rounded lips and that delicate little dip right under Blair's nose that he didn't hear Blair's voice until the younger man gripped his wrist. 

"Jim? What's wrong? Did you dream you'd lost me?" 

Jim shifted his gaze up to Blair's eyes and stared at them, searching for something he couldn't name. A flash of terror stole up his spine and he shivered violently. Blair's hand on his wrist tightened its hold and calmed him immediately. 

"Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly what I dreamed," Jim began. "Are you sure you want to hear this?" 

He waited for the quick nod from his partner, then spoke again. 

"Right before Alex came to Cascade ... before I knew about Alex ... I started having these really weird dreams ... these nightmares. I'd be in a forest ... hunting ... carrying a bow and arrow. Then I'd see the wolf. It would stop and look right at me. When it would turn to run away, I'd draw my bow and shoot it. Next thing I'd know, I'd be right over the wolf, staring down on it on the ground. Then ... then it would turn into you. I'd have killed you." 

Jim's voice trailed off to a whisper and then suddenly his body convulsed as a huge sob escaped his lips. 

"Jim, it's okay," Blair soothed. "It was just a dream. You didn't kill me. Alex killed me ... well, tried anyhow. You wouldn't hurt me. I know that." 

They both knew that was a lie. Jim's cutting words and hateful tone as he'd told Blair that he didn't need him anymore still rang in the younger man's mind. Those words had been like a powerful blow to the head. Alex had merely pushed him into the fountain, but he was already dead inside by the time she'd found him. 

"I thought ... I thought if I pushed you away, that you'd be safe. I thought the dream meant that if you stayed near me, I'd kill you. I was so scared, Blair. I knew that I needed you, but if I were responsible for your death, I'd never forgive myself. I couldn't let you stay, so I had to make you leave. It broke my heart to say those things ... to have to pack up your stuff and kick you out, but I had to get you away from the danger. But you just kept coming back. Then Alex tried to drown you and I nearly lost my mind. Simon told me later that everybody standing around watching me touch you, trying to will you back to life, thought I was a goner too. When you came back to me, I was happier than I ever thought possible. But it wasn't over. I'm so sorry about what I did to you." 

Jim stopped to take a breath and dropped his head down to his Guide's chest. It was such a gesture of trust. Blair wrapped his arms around his friend and pulled him the rest of the way down so that he blanketed the smaller man. Jim was breathing heavily and a slight tremor shook Blair's fingers. But the floodgates were open and Jim had to keep talking ... to tell Blair everything. 

"I hated myself for being drawn to Alex the way I was. I hated her for what she'd done, but I still was drawn to her. I don't even want to think of what would have happened if she hadn't fried her brain. I'd like to believe that everything Incacha had made me see ... the love I felt for you ... would offset any instinctive reaction to her, but I couldn't be sure. 

"When we came home, things were so strained between us. I knew that you resented my attraction to Alex even though you knew I couldn't help it. I figured that I'd screwed us up for good, but at least you were here and that made things bearable. Then the whole dissertation mess happened. I actually thought that you were getting even with me for being such an asshole and that just made me even crazier." 

Blair stopped stroking Jim's back and swallowed hard. 

"Jim, I would never do that to you. How could you think I'd do that?" 

There was a desperate quality to his voice that Blair couldn't quite remove. The old wound was reopening and it felt like claws tearing at his flesh. He shifted under his burden then felt a warm dampness against his chest. 

"I'm so sorry Blair. I know you wouldn't. I was so scared. I thought that this was going to be your way to finally get rid of me ... to leave me for good. I wouldn't have made it, Blair. I need you too much. Please don't leave me, Blair." 

"Oh, Jim," Blair crooned. "I won't ever leave. We're partners ... Sentinel and Guide ... joined at the hip. You know that." 

His words did little to calm the detective who was now openly weeping in his arms. When Blair heard what sounded like words, he leaned closer and listened. 

"But you did, Blair. You moved out. Why'd you move out Blair? Why'd you leave me?" 

Choking back his own tears, Blair continued to hold Jim in his arms and lightly kissed the top of his head. 

"I thought it was what you wanted Jim. You seemed so ... unhappy with me ... so angry all the time. I thought you were tired of me and just wanted me to give you back your privacy. I'd do anything for you Jim ... even leave you if that's what you really wanted." 

"No!" Jim's exclamation reverberated against his chest. "No, don't you see? I don't ever want you to leave me. I need you, Blair." 

Jim's sobs quieted as Blair continued to hold his friend close. They were quite a pair, he thought. Both so needy ... both too proud to express that need. If they'd only have talked about it. 

"Whoa! What was that?" 

Blair stiffened as a tongue snaked out of his partner's mouth and circled his right nipple. Maybe Jim was just licking the tears away and touched Blair in the process. Seemed like a reasonable explanation. 

When Jim began to tug on the nipple with his teeth while sliding a hand down inside Blair's shorts, that explanation flew out the window. Blair tried to push Jim away, but the larger man was clinging to him so tightly that he couldn't pull free. A strong hand stroked his cock while a strangely husky voice began speaking softly. 

"Oh god, baby. I love you so much. I want you so bad." 

"Jesus Christ, Jim!" Blair bellowed as he wrenched Jim's hand out of his boxers. "What the hell is wrong with you?" 

He didn't mean to scream out the question as he crab-walked over to the edge of the bed, but he'd never been so shocked in his life. 

Jim looked up at the terrified Guide and blinked into awareness. A look of complete horror washed over his face before Jim rolled over onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm. 

"Oh god Blair. I'm sorry." 

Blair's eyes were huge as he stared at the prone form. Jim's chest was heaving like he'd just run 10 miles and every muscle was tight and corded. He looked like a coil that was about to be sprung. 

"It's okay, Jim. You just kind of freaked me out. I think maybe I'd better just sleep down on the couch. No point in my crowding you in your own bed." 

The Sentinel turned quickly and grabbed Blair's arm then released it immediately. The look in his eyes was gut wrenching. There was so much sadness ... so much hurt. 

"Please stay," he whispered. "I promise that I'll never touch you again. Just ... please don't leave me alone, Blair." 

Blair nodded his assent and slipped back under the comforter. How could he leave Jim like this? What kind of monster would that make him? Jim let out a deep breath and rolled to his edge of the bed and pretended to sleep. 

The sun had just breached the skylight, casting golden shadows over the bedroom when Blair finally gave up on sleep. He'd lain there for hours with Jim's words echoing over and over in his head. 

"I promise ... I'll never touch you again." 

Jim's touch ... it has always mystified Blair how a man could be as repressed as Jim but still be so touchy-feely. But when Jim had stopped touching him before ... after Alex and the dissertation fiasco ... that was what he'd missed the most ... the occasional tap to the head, the arm slung around his shoulders as they walked, the hand on his arm when Jim was making a point. Then he had ached for that touch. Why then when it progressed to something more intimate did he freak out? 

Well, it was certainly unexpected; Blair's rational mind told him. Jim had never, ever given any indication that he was attracted to men. Sure, the guy dated less than the average nun, but when he did, it was always with women ... gorgeous, dangerous women. 

Okay, but Jim had always been a study in contradictions. Why did this one catch Blair so off guard? Maybe it had more to do with Blair than with his perceptions of Jim. He was no fool. Looking like he did, he'd had more than one man make a pass or indecent proposal to him. Blair had never been interested and had always been able to laugh the advances off and get away with his masculinity intact. It wasn't that he was homophobic. He just wasn't interested in men. But what had happened to his dating habits? Shit, he'd dumped Tracy and Kirby just for the chance at dinner with Jim. 

And then it hit him. He was in love with Jim. It didn't matter that they were both men. It didn't even matter that they were Sentinel and Guide. They just belonged together ... two halves of the same whole. Jim's clumsy groping had taken Blair by surprise but the fact that he'd continued to lay there with a hard-on that wouldn't go away surprised him even more. 

Jim loved him ... needed him ... and Blair loved him back. Glancing over at Jim, he didn't need Sentinel senses to know that Jim was as wide-awake as he was. Blair watched as the light played over Jim's muscular back, skin smooth and golden ... shifting slightly with each exhalation of breath. The man was so beautiful. How had he not seen it before? 

"Jim? You awake?" 

"What do you want?" 

Blair flinched at the vicious tone of voice, but put a tentative hand out to touch Jim's shoulder. 

"Jim, we need to talk." 

Oh man, was that the wrong thing to say. Jim flipped over and within a fraction of a second had Blair on his back and pinned to the mattress. Thoughts of Army Ranger training on how to kill a man with your bare hands flew through his mind as Jim dug bruises into his wrists with his punishing grip. 

"We did talk, remember Sandburg?" Jim snarled at his Guide. "I poured my heart out to you and you told me that I freaked you out. I may not be as smart as you, but I got the point. Now what do you want, Chief? What do you want from me?" 

Jim was yelling into his partner's face, consumed by fury and ready to snap. 

"I want your love, Jim," Blair whispered in response. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. Please forgive me. I love you, Jim." 

The Sentinel glared at the man beneath him, not recognizing the words at first. Then, all at once, the anger left and Jim slumped down and rolled away. 

"Blair, please ... please just let it alone. The last thing I want is your pity." 

Blair turned to face Jim and lightly stroked the tense jaw with the back of his fingers. 

"You're not listening Jim. I ... love ... you. I don't want to pity you. I want to make love to you." 

Bright blue eyes stared up at Blair, silently questioning what he was hearing. 

"Jim, you surprised me. I didn't know that you felt that way about me and it ... well, it shocked me. I didn't know you were ... attracted to men?" 

It was more a question than an observation. Jim sighed loudly and began to twirl the edge of the bed sheet between the fingers of his right hand. 

"I'm not. I'm not ... attracted to men. I mean ... not usually. I mean ... oh shit, never mind!" 

"Don't do this Jim," Blair demanded. Rising up on one elbow, he stared intently at his partner. 

"We need to talk about this. We've had a serious lack of communication going on here for the last 9 months and frankly, I'm sick of it. Now I think we're about to take a very important step in our lives and I, for one, want to be absolutely sure what's going on." 

Jim gripped the sheet harder and turned his head away. 

"Okay, how 'bout this?" Blair began. "How 'bout I tell you exactly what I'm feeling?" 

Silence. 

"Okay ... good start. Jim, I'm not gay. I'm not bi. I've never even been mildly attracted to another man. But you know what? I'm in love with you. Did you hear me?" 

Silence. 

"I'm in love with you Jim. I didn't realize it for what it was at first, but now I know. I'm a straight man in love with another straight man. So it freaked me out. And you know me, Jim. I've got to think things to death before I act. But when I thought about you and what you said and how your mouth felt on me ... Jim, I love you. I can't imagine what my life would be without you ... without your touch. So please believe me, Jim. I'm so sorry that I hurt you. I'd do anything now to change that. Let me prove it to you, Jim." 

Without waiting for a reply, Blair leaned in and began to kiss his partner. Jim's mouth was clamped shut and he laid still, trying to not be affected by the feel of Blair's lips on his. After a moment, Blair pulled away and nuzzled close to Jim's ear. 

"Don't deny it Jim. We're meant to be together and you know it. I'm not going to give up here so you might as well give in. Please Jim ... please let it happen." 

And then as Blair ran his tongue around the shell of Jim's ear, a hand came up to guide his head back so that his lips were where they belonged ... on Jim's mouth. This time, Jim met the kiss with a groan of desire. He opened his mouth, granting Blair entrance, then sucked his sweet, hot tongue inside. The kiss went on forever with each man taking nourishment from the intimate act. 

When Blair finally pulled back he saw tears glittering in his lover's eyes. 

"I love you so much Jim." 

The words broke the final barrier that Jim had constructed to shield his heart and the tears began to fall freely from his eyes once again. Curling against Blair's chest again, Jim sobbed pathetically for what seemed like forever. Blair held the stricken man close, alternating between soft kisses to his head and murmured words of love. 

"We'll get through this baby," Blair crooned. "I'll take good care of you." 

The tears ended eventually and both men fell back to into an exhausted sleep.   
The shrill squawk of the telephone woke Blair a few hours later. Leaning across the bed, he pawed at it with a hand that he seemed to have no control over until the ringing miraculously stopped. Flopping back and shaking his hand to wake up the sleeping appendage, he suddenly realized that he was first, not in his own bed, and second, alone in Jim's. 

"Oh shit," he groaned as everything that had been said came back to him. He flopped the arm that he had just been waving across his eyes and groaned again. 

A dip in the mattress told him that he was no longer alone. Moving his arm a little, Blair squinted up at the face of his Sentinel ... his smiling Sentinel. 

"Morning Sandburg!" 

Jim looked so happy. He actually beamed. Blair moved his arm some more and tried to smile back. That earned him a kiss on the nose. 

"Hey Jim." 

It seemed like a pretty innocuous way to start the conversation. It must have been okay because Jim continued to grin at him. He decided to follow up with a question. 

"Whacha been doing?" 

Apparently, that was just the right thing. Jim dipped down again, but kissed Blair on the lips this time. 

"Research," he breathed into Blair's mouth. "You're not the only one with a college education around here, you know? Been on the Internet for the last two hours. Want to know what I was researching?" 

Blair nodded dutifully. 

"Sex." 

"Sex?" 

"Yep, sex. Wanna know what I found out?" 

"That when a mommy and a daddy are very much in love..." 

Jim stopped the comment with another kiss. 

"No ... That when a daddy and a daddy are very much in love, there's lots of things they can do together." 

Blair grinned up at the 190 pounds of buff cop that was now hovering over him, twirling chestnut curls through his fingers. 

"You've been researching gay sex on the Internet? That I would love to have seen." 

"Uh huh. And you know what I learned, smartass?" 

Blair nodded enthusiastically. 

"Aside from the fact that there are way too many references to 'man meat', there's all kinds of things we can do besides anal penetration. I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I'm quite ready for that trip. But if we decide we want to do that, there's instructions on that too!" 

"Good," Blair giggled. "You think you could show me what you learned sometime? I'm a pretty good student." 

"I think so." 

"Like now?" 

"I think I can manage that." 

And then all 190 pounds of buff cop swooped down and covered Blair in a full body press. Contact with lips, chests, groins was achieved as Jim began to put his newly found knowledge to use. He kissed and licked and sucked and squeezed the squirming Guide until giggles turned to moans and both men were hard with desire. Nudging his cock against Blair's, Jim returned to kissing his lover. Their hips thrust together, creating the most delicious friction as Jim finally got to wrap his hands in the curls that had haunted his dreams for four years. 

"Oh God, I love you Blair," Jim whispered as he nuzzled the younger man's smooth white neck. "Please don't ever leave me baby." 

"Never." 

The one word was all it took and the two men came in a cascade of emotions. Four years of friendship and fighting, trust and betrayal, love and lust all culminated in this one perfect moment. It was the brass ring ... the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow ... the eye of God all rolled up into one. Warm come coated their stomachs as their bodies jerked with the final spasms of their orgasms. Finally, Jim's body went slack and he rolled off his lover. 

"Jesus, Jim!" Blair gasped. "That was incredible." 

"Yeah, it kinda was, wasn't it?" 

Rolling over to lean on the larger man's chest, Blair grinned up at Jim. 

"Kinda proud of yourself, aren't you?" 

Jim bent down to give Blair a slow, hot kiss, then waggled his eyebrows. 

"Pretty proud," he agreed. 

"Well Teach, how 'bout you show me some more of what you learned?" 

"Already? Jesus Blair! Don't you need a little ... you know?" 

"You know?" 

"Down time, you asshole!" 

"Oh now you're gonna start with the sweet talk and I'm gonna get all misty here," Blair giggled as his lover pushed him aside and began feeling around for something to wipe himself off with. 

Settling for his undershirt, Jim rolled back and swiped his and Blair's stomachs with the soft cloth. The younger man moaned softly then snuggled back against his Sentinel's chest. Strong arms surrounded him and a gentle hand stroked his arm. 

"Did I mention that I love you, Jim Ellison?" Blair murmured after a moment. 

Jim's voice was rough with emotion as he responded, "I love you too, Blair Sandburg." 

"Oh, hey. Who was on the phone?" 

Jim kissed the silky curls again and then tucked one behind Blair's ear before he said, "It was your mom." 

"Mom? What did she want?" the Guide asked hesitantly. God only knew what kind of monkey wrench she could throw into the works this morning. 

"Oh, just to tell us that a pipe broke in the apartment upstairs from you yesterday and flooded your place." 

"Oh my God!" Blair blurted out as he sat up in bed. 

Jim rose up and pulled the younger man to him again. 

"The building manager says that you'll have to be out of there for at least a month while they do repairs. He said to tell you that if you find someplace else and want out of your lease, that can be arranged." 

Not wanting to look up at his lover, Blair pleated a bit of the bed sheet between nervous fingers and asked, "And what did you tell Mom?" 

Curling a finger under the quivering chin of the man he loved more than life, Jim stared down at shining sapphire eyes and said, "I told her that you already had a place ... here with me. It's where you belong Chief." 

"Oh Jim." Blair voice was shaky as he spoke. "Do you think we can really do this?" 

"Baby, there's no doubt about it." 

**END**

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End MOVIN' OUT by ROXANNE: DDS455@AOL.COM

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Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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